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All Epilogue 04 - The Collar
"Yo, Lu!" Mako called up the stairs. "There's a surly, brown-haired guy at the door looking for you." It was a little over a month since the All had been banished. Lucca, Osamu and the rest of their family had settled into their house in Lockeport; the cities that weren't located in the center of Asanon had put their pieces back together, and, excepting the ongoing and slightly frantic work from the druids to rehabilitate the Northlands from the heavy hit to its ecosystems, most of the continent was back to normal. With Kalleandar, Arlington and the other central cities still in an anarchic mess, most of the outlying Asonian regions had become necessarily independant, and saw a sudden spike in refugees; Lockeport, already a lone colony, was influenced little, other than the sudden cessation of many imported luxury goods. The Lightning Transit had been repaired almost immediately, however, so necessities and travel were still possible, though few people wanted to visit the mess that was the capital. "Does this surly, brown-haired guy have a name?" The druid called back, poking his head out of the bathroom, in the midst of drying his hair. " 'Cause from a description like that it could be pretty much anyone." "Probably, but he was too surly to give it. He's about your age, and wearing a dog collar with a trench coat, if that helps." Lucca could hear a muffled yell from the front door some distance away. "...And, he just threatened to kill me with my own organs!" Mako turned and shouted towards the visitor, "You're totally welcome to try! Exercise is good for me!" before aiming back towards Lucca again, "It's great, this guy is seething." He raised an eyebrow and gave an interested frown. "...Gimme a minute, I'll be right down." Ducking back into the bathroom, he reemerged momentarily having pulled on a shirt. He ran a brush roughly through his hair as he trotted down the stairs and to the front door, calling out as he approached, "What's goin' on, Doctor?" At the front door was indeed Dr. Cohen, currently appearing in his mid-twenties. He looked flustered and livid at the same time, fidgiting erratically. "Are you busy now?" he asked bluntly. "...No? No, I'm not busy..." Lucca replied, a touch warily. "What's up? You alright? Wanna come in?" He shot Mako a pointed look. Mako shrugged slightly, eating from a bag of cereal and passively watching from the hallway. "Nah, fuck you man. If this guy stands here for another few minutes, I won't have to find a street brawl this week." Lucca shot him a disapproving look but said nothing. Cohen looked around at the ground, his gaze twitching back and forth but not coming up. He ignored Mako's comment entirely as he spoke, his voice tight, "No, no, I have to move, because going inside will lead to sitting and sitting will lead to talking and talking will lead to thinking, and thinking isn't something I should be doing, so I need to be moving, moving, moving of a sort that will take enough focus that I won't be thinking, and the only thing that takes that much effort and is halfway enjoyable is dancing but it needs to be partnered dancing, because solo doesn't take as much focus, and I certainly don't know anyone else, so now I'm here asking you, but let's be honest, mostly just ranting at you like a crazed person and who on earth is that?!" he gestured widely at Mako, still unfazed, still eating cereal. "That's Mako, he's basically Victor's brother. Don't worry about him, he's weird," Lucca explained with a dismissive wave. Mako gave a sarcastic smile and a small wave before continuing to eat, staring at the doctor. "Anyway, you said we're going dancing, cool. I assume this is pretty much immediately? If so, do you care what I am? Should I get changed? Or is this a drop everything and go sorta situation?" "I don't care, whatever you want," he replied, beginning to pace, looking up at the sky. "I can wait if you need to do something, but if you're doing something I can't wait. Does that make sense? Yes, it does, it's a sentence." He stopped and looked down again, closing his eyes as he held his temple. Taking a breath and exhaling slowly, he spoke with a forced pace, "I don't want to rush you or drag you away if you're busy. It's not an emergency or anything like that. If you aren't already occupied, I would appreciate...a partner. But if you are, don't bother yourself. I apologize; I'm...agitated, and its provoking my disorder." Lucca could hear Mako mutter, "Aww, don't try to calm yourself down..." "Naw, it's cool. I can go like this." Lucca said, moving to grab his coat and continuing as he pulled it on. "I don't imagine you've ever been here before, right? So you wont have any preference as to where we go, yeah?" As he rummaged in his pockets, making sure he had everything he'd need, he directed his thoughts toward Osamu. So. The doc just showed up outta nowhere all flippin' balls and asked me to go dancing...I figured I'd humor him, maybe see what the heck has got him all freakin' and whatnot. I'll be back later, cool? That's fine. I'll see you when you get back. Let me know if the doctor needs anything. "No, I've never been here. I don't care at all, provided the music is fast," Cohen replied, his voice still somewhat mechanical as he kept his pace even. "You can lead." "Cool, let's go then." He stepped out the door and gave a half-wave, half-salute to Mako, calling over his shoulder, "Later dude!" Mako grinned, returning the gesture and retreating further back into the house. Setting a brisk pace he turned and lead the way toward town, making a bit of pointless banter as he went. Cohen responded to the questions asked, but was still obviously scattered and agitated; he avoided talking about himself. Taking the hint, Lucca avoided probing. It didn't take them long to reach their destination: an unassuming little club that the druid was partial to. While perhaps a bit lacking in the style department, it more than made up for it with its welcoming atmosphere and lively music. Without saying anything, Cohen threw his jacket on a chair, heavy as it was with his things, and walked purposefully towards the floor. Lucca followed, and within moments the two were dancing. The doctor seemed to have the energy he had shown when last they danced, but none of the joy; his movements were sharp, and there was anger and determination in his expression. They danced song after song, long into the evening, though Cohen's mind was obviously never on it. Suddenly, in the middle of a maneuver, his ankle slipped out from under him and he fell. Wincing sympathetically, Lucca made to help him back up. He lay there for a second, teeth clenched and eyes shut, and with a growl he punched the floor before picking himself up and walking gingerly towards the spot where he left his coat. Collapsing heavily into a chair, he looked off into space as he slowly picked through his pockets, pulling out vial after vial, replacing them when they weren't the one he wanted. Lucca followed, taking a seat across from him and asking almost perfunctorily if he was alright. He seemed to pay no real attention to the druid, finally pulling out the healing potion he was looking for and downing it. He slouched back, looking at the ceiling as he spun the empty glass around in his hand idly. After a minute, he asked, "Why am I...less, than everyone else? What did I do, how was I born, that I am just, worse than other people?" Lucca frowned, confused. After a moment he answered uncertainly, "I...don't know? I don't really know what you're talking about, to be honest. How is it that you figure that to be the case?" "It just is, it's always been that way and it will continue to be that way, for reasons I'll probably never understand," he said, waving it off. He sighed, "Ugh, and now I'm sitting complaining about my life to a man one third my age, because there's no one else to listen to my complaints. I am old." He was silent for a few beats, still spinning the vial. "...I apologize for throwing myself at you. I spoke to her," he emphasized the word, "today, and that never does anything good for my psychological state." The druid sighed at his attempt to apologize, but let it lie for the time being. Making a face, he said, "I can just imagine. Why in hell would you do that?" "Because I can't kill my hope," he said bitterly. "I can't stop hoping." He stopped spinning the bottle and clenched it as he said, "It's depressing and frustrating and..." he trailed off, clenching the glass and shutting his eyes. Suddenly he stopped, releasing the tension in his expression and twirling the glass again. "I cynically wish I wasn't optimistic. As long as there keep being possibilities of release, I keep believing them. She said that maybe she would release me when the All were defeated; part of me couldn't help but hope she was telling the truth. Now, she says that if I get ethical approval from a university for my past research, she might release me." He said bitterly, "It will be nothing but years of crushed hope until she dies 60 years from now, because she won't just kill my optimism for me." "Why the fuck do you have to get approval for...what the actual fuck? Why does she even care? What does that have to do with anything!?" He let out a frustrated groan and scrubbed his hands across his face. "The extent of her fucking power trip never ceases to amaze me. Like, pretty sure thats all this is, at this point, and it's pathetic. Seriously! How the hell is she even still justifying it anyway?" "No...no, not a power trip anymore..." he said. "It's fear. She knows she can't send me back to Mirilarin prison, but she doesn't want the responsibility of law. She can't justify keeping it on or taking it off. That's what this is. She's damned if she does: she has responsibility over me as long as it's there, and she doesn't want it. She wants me gone, like before. But she's damned if she doesn't: she can't trust that she's not unleashing me on an unsuspecting public, that she's not letting me loose to kill her and her husband and her child, and hurt and mutilate people that she would then be responsible for because she chose to let me free. So she's stuck with me in limbo until someone else takes the responsibility of being my jailer. Someone else has to be accountable for my actions. Because she doesn't want to be, and I lost the privilige." Lucca just slowly shook his head, his expression a sort of wry, malicious amusement. "That's ridiculous. I kinda appreciate the karmic justice of it coming back to bite her in the ass...it would almost be hilarious, if you weren't stuck having to suffer for it at every turn." He shook his head once more, sighing slightly. "So what, she wants someone else to take over...but I'm guessing that of course there's nobody qualified in her books to do so, yeah? Meaning you're both stuck in this situation until she kicks the bucket. And the thing about getting approval is really just dangling a carrot before a rabbit, as it were. Intentionally or not, she's keeping you stuck hoping there'll be a way out because she is too." "That's the long and short of it," he replied with an air of defeat. "So, I had another panic attack. I can't escape. I can't stop hoping. I can't do anything. I can't do anything and the sheer frustration of it, of being trapped, of being brought up to fall again and again is maddening, and I can't do anything, I can't think right, I don't know what my own thoughts are anymore, I can't defend myself against things like the wizard council, I can't..." he clenched again, pausing as he held his breath for a few seconds. He continued, "And I can't knock myself out because the wizards are still watching and I already take too much when I turn into a dog which I can't escape either, and I'm never safe and I'm always running and hiding and trapped. Stuck with my ridiculous hope that I'll get free." He took another slow breath. Lucca leaned forward and dropped his chin into his palms as he thought. After a bit he said slowly, "Well...at least there is an end in sight, at some point. You are gonna outlive her. Yes, it's still decades of bullshit, but it will be over at some point, and that's something, right?" Cocking his head, he suddenly asked, "You say the stupid wizards are still watching you...which is balls as fuck, by the way...but...you think maybe you could twist that somehow to make her happy? I mean, she wants someone to make sure you're not doing shitty things...well if those fuckers always have an eye on you...?" He trailed off with a shrug. "Just an idea...I mean, ideally you'd want them off your back too, but baby steps and all, yeah?" Cohen stopped spinning the glass and paused. He looked thoughtful, and drummed the fingers of his opposite hand on the table, quickly and in rhythm with the music playing in the background. Eventually he said, "...One...she can't have any love of the wizard council, because they undoubtedly can, will and possibly have hounded her husband. Undead are under their jurisdiction. She will not want them in her affairs; she's unlikely to approach them. ...Two...they are not being particularly watchful now. This is because they assume me at the end of my life. This is because they assume I will not impact them in the years I have left, if I am exiled. They have to think that I can, will and do die because they are not people. They are a committee. If a committee thinks I'm a permanent threat they will hound me far, far longer than a single person could, because they'll pass on the task to new members. ...Three...they are corrupt. Everyone knows they are. Everyone who has ever dealt with them knows they are, it's no secret. If she was going to hand me to someone corruptible, I'd be back with the Asonian government. ...Four...and here's the sticking point..." He stopped drumming suddenly, and looked up at Lucca, grinning, "The sad fact is, they are not strong enough to hold me. Neither is the government. I'd get out again, and she knows it. The only way they could stop me is to kill me, which they are all too willing to do, and if that was her goal, I'm sure I'd be dead already. It's not like she held back when that was her goal originally." He tossed the vial up and down lightly, twirling it about playfully, "No. The wizard council is not suitable, for either of us. She won't want to deal with them, and I don't want them in my business five years from now. I need her to make up her damn mind. Either take it off or don't; stop giving me fake promises. She needs a solution. She needs a new jailer; she's not looking for an executioner. A jailer that isn't corrupt, won't die, has the ability to follow me, knows the extent of my depravity, and, most importantly, actually has the means to stop me." He caught the vial and balanced it on the end of his finger. "She doesn't have too many options." Leaning back in his chair, Lucca gave a crooked smile, "Well then, which one of us do you think might do the trick?" "Let's see...it will have to be an ascendant or an extraplanar. I think the zombie mentioned she has a hatred for fey; she won't outsource to them, and she's unlikely to pick him, since that's too close to home, literally. She never met Clover, to my knowledge, Cheko isn't any match, so to speak...Victor doesn't strike me as a good option, one doesn't usually go to devils for just causes, and you and Cress, while possibilities, are still, what's the word the undead use, vivan? So unless she starts summoning things, that leaves Webber, Redfern and possibly the woman we left with the necromancer." He frowned slightly, "...Is she still there?" "I haven't the slightest clue, to be honest. I'd hope so? Someone kinda needs to be maintaining that ritual..." He drummed his fingers together briefly. "I feel like Cait would like Bastion best, outta those options, but chances are she has better things to do than keep tabs on your ass...same with that Nisa lady, she struck me as a woman with things to do, but I can't really say I know either of them well enough to say for sure. Pierce...well he comes with the bonus of being always watching, whether he wants to or not." He finished with a bit of a harried look. "What, the concept of seeing everything bothers you? Or do you just have a lot of shares in your house?" "I have an excessive number of shares in my house." He affirmed with an almost weary sigh, "All over, constantly popping up in places you don't really want them to be. I'm sure by this point Pierce has seen some things." "How could they be possibly popping up? They don't move. And I doubt Percival is showing up at your house to shuffle them around." "No, no. That's our own doing...we've been grabbing them for him whenever we come across them out and about, 'cause he wants to collect 'em up and keep 'em safe, yeah?We've been piling them neatly in out of the way places...Mako on the other hand apparently gets a kick outta taking them and strewing them about and hiding them in weird spots." "Mako, the disturbing man with absolutely awful hair? Who is he again?" "He's....some fuckin' title I always forget. Gensui somethin' somethin' whatever. He's some sorta general or something, but basically is like Victor's kooky-ass brother for all intents and purposes. He's actually pretty cool, when you're not the target of his shit-disturbing." "He's one of the devils that Pierce summoned for him, then. Who's the other one?" He dropped his voice slightly, asking more rhetorically than to Lucca, "...And why did he feel he needed his general here?" "His daughter." The druid narrowed his eyes slightly as he answered, "Because he's family; they both are." Cohen considered this, then shrugged, "Anyways, back to the point at hand, whether she likes Bastion or not, it's a question of whether she's immortal. If she isn't, and I somewhat doubt she is, she doesn't make the grade either." He started flipping the glass again, "Nisa does have hundreds of better things to be doing, and I can guarentee that she won't play watchdog for a vivan. She won't care in the slightest. Pierce, however, might fit her bill..." He was quiet for a few beats, then added, "Now we have to see if she comes up with the idea herself, because obviously she's not open to suggestions. And I have to go find a university who will fund a repeat of my old work. Ugh." He grabbed the vial out of the air, "How long will that take to conduct, years? Not as long as last time, I can skip a few dozen iterations, and the preliminary work is already done...but it's going to take months at least to work out what I lost from my book...Ugh." "Still gonna go do that anyway, eh? Why bother?" "Because if nothing else, she'll have just another hint that she's wrong. And it's no big problem. I'd likely do it again anyways; it's just the aggravation of having to deal with an academic institution, and having to put it at the top of my priority list." Lucca considered this for a moment, then shrugged. Looking thoughtful, he asked, "...Do you think it might help your cause to mention it to Ryu? Speed things along?" "Possibly, for what little clout he actually has with his wife. And it isn't much." "At the very least, you could maybe get him to plant the seed of the idea, right? As opposed to literally waiting in the hopes it comes to her mind. I'm sure he wants this shit over with as much as any of you. And if the suggestion is coming from him it'll probably be considered more favorably than from anyone else. I would hope, anyway." "One would..." he said. Suddenly, he caught the vial and put it away. "Well, if I wanted to sit around complaining and panicking about my life, I would have done it alone. Come on," he stood up and began to walk back to the floor. Lucca blinked, then got up to follow with a grin. Category:Advent of the All